Long-time readers know in my first 12 years in business, I had nine jobs and was fired from five of them. Unemployment checks put knots in my stomach.

I read about college grads being "underemployed" and miserable. Others won't take crap jobs because friends find out. Or they're "too busy looking for work." Or "I didn't go to college to flip hamburgers."

Peggy and I were in Las Vegas for a curling event. The hotel was The Orleans, a seedy behemoth (rooms from $34) with a great ice facility.

Mornings in the giant cafeteria a guy came around clearing tables. He did his work well, stacked dirty dishes and cleaned tables with a damp rag. And then moved on.

If I were in my mid-40s and out of work would I take that job?

In a heartbeat.

I'd take a second job if I could get it.

Theatrical impresario Michael Todd (One of seven Mr. Elizabeth Taylors) once owed millions. Art Cohn, his biographer, said a guy came to see him and Todd offered a $1 cigar (top of the line in the 1940s.)

"Mike, this is a $1 cigar. You can't afford this. You're poverty stricken."

"I'm not poverty stricken," Todd snarled. "I'm broke. Broke is a temporary situation. Poverty is a state of mind."